Infamous words, texted by my dear son as he waited for the AC repairman to show up at the home away from home, though I doubt they’ll linger as long as “I’ll be baaaaaaaack” or “life is like a box of choc-lates”
He and the grandson left here all happy happy Thursday afternoon, planning to drive straight through to Florida and to have two whole days to themselves golfing before the girls flew down to join them. Payton is in her end of year soccer tournament this weekend, so, assuming they win the whole applecart, which hopefully they will (off to a good 2-0 start so far, third game this afternoon) they get to fly out tomorrow night for a week of sunshine, theme parks, and…er…Florida heat.
Jefferson actually made it about an hour down the road when a fuse blew in the new car. He’s like me and tends to not get too pissy at the small things that go wrong on days when everything should go right, but they’d had a full week of BIG things going wrong, all to do with the new car, so this was like that proverbial tiny tiny straw that sent all the camels in Yemen running over a cliff in terror.
He turned around and drove straight back to the dealer, who swapped out the tiny little fuse, and they were off again, on their way to sunny Florida, golfing, Hooters…
And they made good time, taking regular stops to stretch, eat, and just relax. With only one driver, it’s a long haul to try to do in the 20 hrs it takes from door to door, but the Clone has done it before and, like me again, once you’re on that road, and you’re getting closer, and you’ve got your second wind…just keep going cuz you know you can crash and sleep at the other end.
So they arrived in Orlando at noonish and, going through the five page checklist I sent with them, turned everything on, power, water, plugged in all the appliances, took the saran wrap off the toilets..very important *snort*…and flicked on the AC cuz it was about 110 inside the trailer.
An hour later, he calls asking if there was a special trick to turning the AC on, like an extra plug, or FUSE, or something. Nope. Flick the switch, it hums to life.
He flicked, nothing happened.
Okay so he’s 1500 miles away and not the handiest man around the house when it comes to fixing things. And I’m 1500 miles away without a clue who to call about checking the AC unit. After another hour of back and forthing and calls to check this, check that, I send them to the pool while I try to find someone in the park who is not a snowbird, who might know who to call. I’ve had the unit repaired before but at this point, the name of the guy escaped me completely, so I called the fellow I did know who works on sprinkler systems and hasn’t a clue about AC units. But bless him, he says leave it with him, he has a friend who has done work in the park and he’ll try to get hold of him.
By 10:00pm, the sweaty, crusty duo have called it a night and flopped out like beached starfishes under the ceiling fans. Ron calls me back, says he can’t get hold of his friend, but there are some other options, like a regular repair guy listed with 24hr service. I think to myself, great…so we should have gone this route four hours ago, but hey, he tried. Then I think hold on….The Clone is crusty already and finally asleep after driving all that way and not dealing well with the lack of AC…so I make the decision to let the boys sleep through the hot steamy night and Ron will call at 7am to arrange the repair.
Perfect. All except for the fact that while the boys are far less crusty than they were the day before, NOW they’re crusty because they were planning to be on a golf course this morning. But that’s forgiven if they can get AC for the rest of the week, and if, possibly, they can get on the greens by the afternoon…so again, I send them down to the pool or the air conditioned clubhouse to wait for the call from the repair guy.
I’m starting to do all sorts of math in my head by now. Repair guy, ching ching to drive out. Double ching ching to drive out on a Saturday. Ching ching CHING if it’s anything too complicated or it can’t be fixed or I need a whole new unit. I already joked with Ron about needing to get it fixed before the girls went down tomorrow or the DIL would likely erupt like a volcano. He laughed at first, thinking I was joking. I wasn’t. So with all this going through my head, I figure okay, if it’s over X number of dollars, I’ll just go for the new unit because this one has been fixed a few times now, and it has to be reaching the point where it isn’t worth it and I need something reliable. (and if this sounds like deja vu, there’s another blog here detailing the drive BACK from Florida last spring and finding out I needed to get a new furnace the same day. Ching CHING)
The call comes just before noon, the guy is on his way. The DIL and I are sitting in the sun, in 95 degrees, watching Payton play soccer, but no complaints. We can’t possibly be as hot as the boys. We get the call it’s only a dirty starter and there’s no freon in the tank, so a minor ching ching, and I start cheering and all the parents pick up the clapping and cheering cuz they think our team scored another goal.
Jefferson gives the repair guy a pack of cigars and he’s all happy. Austin is standing in the driveway with his golf clubs, and he’s all happy. Payton’s team wins the game, and she’s all happy cuz she scored a goal. (which will, of course, in future re-tellings of the story, become the WINNING goal) It’s Michelle’s birthday today, so she was happy to begin with. And me? My kids are happy, my munchkins are happy. It’s a good day.
Oh…and about the infamous quote at the beginning of the blog? That’s what the Clone texted from the throne room whilst waiting for the repair guy to show up.
Thank goodness the plumbing was working.